The air was so thick with magic it fell like confectioner’s sugar on Tella’s tongue, a sweet welcome to a darkly enchanted world. Fates and symbols of Fates were everywhere.
The palatial courtyard had been transformed into a market that looked as if it were something plucked from a myth. There were tents bearing names like:
Her Majesty’s Magical Gowns Priestess, Priestess’s Charm Emporium Assassin’s Knives and Killer Neckwear Aracle’s Magical Glasses
Then there were the signs, giant posters in honor of even more Fates:
Give Mistress Luck a kiss and she’ll give you your heart’s greatest wish. For a short-lived but good time, find Jester Mad!
If you see the Pregnant Maid, your future is about to change.…
Tella refused to be distracted—she needed to get to the Temple of the Stars, though it was a little harder to move through the courtyard when people started approaching her. A shadowy figure costumed as the Poisoner invited her to taste his poison. A number of Fallen Stars offered her a lick of stardust.
Tella didn’t even bother to respond; she hurried through the crush as quickly as possible. The only moment she stumbled was when she thought she saw Scarlett, dressed as the Unwed Bride in a veil of tears that dripped over her face like weeping diamonds. But if Scarlett knew what Tella was about to do, she would certainly try to stop her.
Tella didn’t want to be stopped. This was her one chance to save her mother, and if she didn’t take it she’d regret it as long as she lived.
During the carriage ride to the Temple District she still felt pangs of guilt at the idea of giving Legend over to Jacks. But Tella imagined it was only because of her infatuation with Dante. Betraying Legend felt like betraying Dante. But maybe they weren’t one and the same. And if Dante was really Legend, then he was the one who’d been betraying Tella all this time.
She reached the Temple of the Stars after the clang of ten bells.
She didn’t need to knock when she arrived at the sanctuary’s forbidding doors. They opened soundlessly, as if the temple were giving her an inaudible hello.
Theron stood on the other side, a tower of a man, made more imposing by the brutal eight-pointed star burned onto his merciless face. He was dressed in the same manner as when she’d met him the night before—thick leathers and a royal-blue cape.
To his credit, Theron didn’t mention Tella’s rapid departure the night before. Whatever he made of her disappearance and reappearance remained guarded by his stoic demeanor.
The slap of Tella’s slippers against the polished floor made the only sound as she followed him inside the shadowed entry. The fiery fountain in the center had not yet been lit, allowing a thick layer of cold to settle.
Tella had lost her cape somewhere in the royal courtyard, leaving her back and arms exposed, so she should have been freezing. Yet her neck dripped sweat as she said, “I’m here to open my mother’s vault.”
Theron’s eyes dropped to Tella’s ring. “You are fortunate to have such a good friend.”
A prickle of fresh unease joined the sweat dripping down her neck as she thought of Dante. “What did he give you to break the curse on the ring?”
“There’s only one way to break the curse. But there is always one way around every curse. In this case, we made an exchange that has temporarily lifted it from your ring. Now do you wish to keep asking questions, or would you like to see your vault?”
“First, tell me what Dante gave you in this exchange.”
“He made us a promise. I cannot tell you what it is, but if you care about him, you’ll want to make sure he keeps his word.”
“What happens if he doesn’t?”
Theron traced the star-shaped brand on his face. “If your Dante fails us, he will die.”
Tella’s mouth went dry.
Without another word, Theron guided Tella to the door at the back of the foyer, the one watched by the agonized stone statues. He used his ring to unlock the gate.
Warm air smelling of buried mysteries and old magic filled the octagonal annex on the other side. Unlike the entry, this area was not all glowing gold and pearly whites. It was wooden and aged, and filled with the same sort of hushed gravity as the first floor of Elantine’s golden tower. Primeval light ghosted across the grainy floor, while magic, far older than Legend’s or Jacks’s, brushed against the backs of Tella’s hands, tasting her with unseen tongues.
Theron had told the truth when he’d said this temple was not a tourist attraction.
The vaults were buried deep beneath. From the annex, Theron took Tella through a door that led to a winding case of earthy stairs. She didn’t count the number of steps, but it was enough to make her legs sweat beneath her sparkling gown. When they finally reached the bottom, the passages were narrow and dim, lit by a row of candles that looked as if they grew out of the ground. Theron and Tella had to cautiously skirt around them.
Halfway down a corridor so dim Tella could only make out Theron’s outline, he finally stopped in front of a stone door without a handle. “This will open only for you. To gain entrance, all you must do is press your ring to the door. But be warned, the bargain your Dante made with us allows you to open this vault only once. If you choose to remove or leave an object inside here, be very certain about your choice. Once you close this door, the only way you may open it again is by paying your mother’s debt.”
“If I never open it,” Tella asked, “will that undo the bargain that was made on my behalf?”
“No. That vow has already been sealed. To leave the vault locked would be a waste of the sacrifice he has made.”
Sweat coated Tella’s palms. Dante should not have come to her aid. It gave her more hope that he wasn’t Legend. Legend was not known for making sacrifices, and as flattering as it would be if he’d changed for her, Tella silently prayed that wasn’t the case, because she could not do the same for him. She’d come here to save her mother, no matter the cost.
Tella waited for Theron to leave before opening the door to the vault. Unlike the narrow hallway, the room on the other side of the door was wide and beaming with light, illuminated from some unseen source. The center was unoccupied but the walls were lined with milk-white shelves full of fantastical treasure. Lifelike paintings, golden instruments, elaborate weapons, dancing figurines, ancient relics, jeweled tiaras, heavy books, and unlabeled bottles with churning contents that might have been magical.
This had been Paloma’s life before she’d come to Trisda.
Tella gave herself a moment to take every stolen inch of it in. She burned with curiosity—and desire for some of the prettier items—but she didn’t want to waste time, or risk touching anything that might be cursed like her mother’s cards.
Tella kept her hands clasped in front of her as her eyes continued searching, until she spotted the box. An unnatural breeze ghosted across Tella’s shoulders. It was a simple wooden thing, unremarkable save for the halo of darkness throbbing around it, as if the light in the rest of the room could not touch it.
Tella saw nothing else as she crossed over to it and lifted the lid. The cards looked exactly as Tella remembered. Such a dark hue of nightshade they were almost black, with tiny hints of gold flecks that sparkled in the light and swirly strands of deep red-violet embossing, which had once made Tella think of damp flowers, witches’ blood, and magic.
Tella wondered what the cards would show if she tried to read her future now, but she didn’t dare flip any over.
Without so much as grazing a swirl, Tella placed the Aracle atop the deck. Then she retrieved the card imprisoning her mother from where she’d tucked it safely inside her dress.
The halo around the cards pulsed darker, as if adding additional cards had somehow made the deck more powerful.
Tella ignored the ill feeling that came with it. She exhaled, breathing out the heavy press against her chest that warned her to stop. She was almost there. All she needed to do now was pick up the deck and win the game. Then she could have her mother back.
Her hand hovered above the tiny stack, wondering how long it would take Legend to find her. Dante must have told Legend that the cards were in the temple. There was a chance Legend was already waiting on the steps. And Nigel had promised, If you win Caraval, the first face you see will be Legend’s.
Tella took a deep breath. If this was going to work, she needed to summon Jacks before she officially won the game or stepped out of the stars’ temple. She reached into the pocket of her silver gown, fingers fumbling for his luckless coin.
Theron’s voice instantly flooded the vault. “Do not use that vile magic here, or I will close this door and you will never get out.”
Tella ripped her hand free from her dress. Her fingers trembled.
She should have summoned Jacks before she’d stepped inside. Being unable to call him now felt like another chance to change her mind. But Tella’s decision was made. Once she took the cards and stepped out of the vault, there would be no turning back. She’d just have to be quick to grab the luckless coin.
But she was still taking a risk. Once she stepped outside of this temple, every Fate and person trapped inside the cards would either be released by Jacks once he took his full power back from Legend—or all the Fates along with Tella’s mother would be destroyed by Legend if Jacks did not arrive quickly enough.
The world was about change. Either all the Fates and Tella’s mother would go free, or Legend would destroy them and become the most powerful human in the world.
No wonder the stars had blinked earlier that night. Tella imagined them doing it again as she reached into the wooden box, boldly picked up her mother’s cursed Deck of Destiny, and officially won Caraval.
